A Distant Memory
by Jenna3
Summary: After a fatal accident, Miguel developes amnesia and is taken in, half dead, by a wealthy merchant. Along the road to recovery, Miguel falls madly in love with the merchant's daughter, Ora. But will Miguel remember Tulio and Chel? Will he save the day?
1. Chapter 1

It had started out well at first. The plans were simple. Create a distraction; steal a couple of fish, run like hell, and live long enough to eat. Of course the distraction wasn't good enough and they were caught. Now (for the millionth time) Tulio, Miguel, and Chel were running for their lives from the guards.  
  
They seemed to have lost them, so the collapsed next to a tree and tried to catch their breath.  
  
"Did you manage to get the fish?" Tulio panted.  
  
"No, I dropped them while we escaped." Miguel said.  
  
Tulio let out a growl in frustration. "Great! All that work for nothing! How could you drop them?!"  
  
Miguel frowned. "Hey, don't blame me! Chel's distraction was pitiful. If you would have gone with my idea, we could be eating right now!"  
  
"I will not flash my breasts to get food, Miguel!" Chel said defensively.  
  
"Well what's wrong with that? It benefits for everyone!" Miguel smiled.  
  
Tulio glared at Miguel. "How's this then? I will not let my wife expose herself for your pleasure." Miguel's smile faded into a scowl.  
  
"I was just kidding." he muttered, crossing his arms and pouting. "So what do we do now, genius one?"  
  
"We stay out here for a few days. I guess we can hunt. Maybe catch a few squirrels or something-. What?!" Tulio snapped at Miguel, who let out a loud snort.  
  
"Hunt?! You can't hunt if your life depended on it, which is-uh- NOW! So how do you suppose we hunt with you as our leader?"  
  
Tulio smiled. "Hmm, you make a good point. So why don't you go hunt?"  
  
Miguel's smile vanished. "Wha-me? But I-I-I. What if I get lost, o-or I get caught and taken to prison?"  
  
"Well then that proves to me that you're not as manly as you think you are. Now go catch us a nice, fat rabbit or a couple of trout. Chel and I will stay right here so you'll know where to find us." Tulio sat down next to Chel, put his arm around her, and smirked. Miguel felt angry and embarrassed, but put on his macho façade.  
  
"Well fine then! I will!" And with that, he marched off into the forest, muttering the whole way.  
  
"Humph. 'Catch us a nice, fat rabbit". Puh!. I'll do better than that. I'll catch a bear and bring it to them alive. Heh. 'Time to eat. ROWR!!!'. Yeah, that'll show them."  
  
An hour had past, and no luck had come. A few times he caught a glimpse of a squirrel or a rabbit, but as soon as he took a step, it scampered off.  
  
Miguel swore to himself. The truth was that he was no better hunter than Tulio and no better a distracter than Chel. But he seemed to have taken a liking at making fun of Tulio and Chel. It wasn't because it was funny to him. It was because, deep down, he was insanely jealous of them. He was jealous of Tulio because he got her first (Miguel was always extremely attracted to her), and he was jealous of Chel because Tulio gave her more respect than he ever got. He was also jealous of their love. That was one thing he had never had in his whole life and wanted. A lover. But, alas, he was a sort of errand boy for the group and didn't have time for any romance. Just work.  
  
But his pondering of love came to a sudden halt, for the ground seemed to stop. He had walked all the way to a giant waterfall.  
  
"Great." He muttered. "A dead end. Might as well go back empty handed." He turned around and started to walk, but stopped. Ahead of him were trees. No path, Just trees. He was lost. Miguel growled in anger. "I knew it! I KNEW IT!!! I knew I'd get lost! Fine. I'll just sit right here and wait for them to come find me." He sat on the ground, cross-legged and stared into the waterfall.  
  
The sky around him grew darker and darker. The sound of the thousands of waves lapping against the rocks made a very peaceful lullaby. Miguel's eyelids grew heavier until, at last, he curled up into a little ball and fell asleep.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Miguel."  
  
A soft voice tried to break into Miguel's dreams. He closed his lids tighter, trying to ignore the sound. But the voice grew louder and more frantic. Miguel popped his eyes open but his name was still being screamed out. He sat up and listened as the voice grew louder. Suddenly, a figure jumped out from the trees. It was Chel.  
  
"Miguel! Thank goodness I found you! The guards are back!"  
  
"What?" Miguel asked, still dazed from waking up.  
  
"They've captured Tulio and I escaped, but they're right behind me. Hurry, get up! We have to go and save-"  
  
"Halt!"  
  
Chel squealed and started to run again, but one of the guards grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and yanked her to the ground. The other stood in front of Miguel.  
  
"You are Senor Miguel Cervantes, is that correct?" he asked.  
  
"Yes." Miguel said, trying to control his trembling.  
  
"By the order of his majesty King Charles the First, I am here to arrest you on accounts of robbery, rioting, and disrupting the peace. Do not try to run. We have your friends so if you do not want them harmed, come quietly."  
  
Miguel looked over the guard's shoulder to see a third guard holding an unconscious Tulio. He smiled. "It seems that you have already hurt one of my friends so it seems that your proposition contains no matter to me." He punched the man as hard as he could in the face and ran.  
  
"Stop where you are or I'll shoot!" the other guard said, reaching for the musket on his back. But Miguel did not here him. The waterfall was too loud as was the pounding of his heart.  
  
"Miguel, no!" Chel screamed. But it was too late. The musket gave a loud bang, stopping Miguel in his tracks.  
  
Horrible pain swept over him. He let out a howl as tears streamed down his cheeks. The pain was so intense that nausea settled in. Then dizziness. Miguel could not stand any longer. He fell face first. But instead of hitting the ground, he fell further and further. Finally, Miguel was engulfed in something wet and freezing. He struggled to reach the surface, but the power of the water was too great. When he thought he couldn't hold his breath any longer, he collided against a rock, knocking him senseless.  
  
The river carried him along, leaving Chel and the guards in shock. 


	2. Chapter 2

"Nice day, isn't it Ora?"  
  
"Hmm."  
  
Ora walked alongside her father, Cid, near the river by their villa. But her mind was somewhere else. Paradise, as a matter of fact. Deeply indulged in her book, Utopia, Ora barely even heard what her father was talking about.  
  
"Ora please put that book away. I want to talk to you about something."  
  
Reluctantly, Ora closed her book. "What is it Father?"  
  
"Have you considered the captain's marriage proposal?"  
  
Ora sighed. Ah yes. Nemesio, the captain of the guards and Ora's worst nightmare. "Father, I do not want to marry Nemesio. I do not love him."  
  
Cid sighed. "But Ora, you and Nemesio have been friends since childhood. He loves you."  
  
"No Father, he is obsessed with me. And the only reason we ever were friends was because his father and you were friends. He's just an arrogant bully and has mistreated me his whole life. And the thought of actually marrying him is.... just.... UGH!!!" Ora cringed at the thought. "I want to marry a man that I love and who loves me in return."  
  
"Ora." The man chuckled. "That could be anybody. Who can resist a young, beautiful, rich girl like you with a big house and proper etiquette?"  
  
Ora huffed. "If all men think about in a woman is money maybe I should become a nun then!"  
  
Cid put his arm on his daughter's shoulder. "Ora, please calm down. You don't have to marry Nemesio, but I must warn you he will not take no for an answer."  
  
"That's what I'm afraid of." she said sadly.  
  
"Listen, Nemesio is coming over for lunch tomorrow afternoon. I'll get him alone and I'll tell him your answer."  
  
Ora smiled a little. "Thank you." Deep down though she knew that 'no' would not be enough for Nemesio.  
  
Cid smelled the summer air and closed his eyes. "I love this time of year, the oranges are nice and ripe, the flowers are blooming, the river-"  
  
"Has a dead body in it."  
  
"Ora, that's not a funny thing to-"  
  
"No Father! Look!" She pointed to the riverbed. Sure enough, there was a body, face down, splayed across the rocks and covered in mud. They both ran over to it. It smelled terrible.  
  
"Oh my- you poor thing." Cid whispered. "How did you get here?" He reached down and turned the man over, causing him to emit a faint but audible groan. "He's alive!.... Ora, stay with him. I'm going back to house and get help."  
  
Ora tried to protest, but her father was already running to the house. So she just stood there and pinched her nose. He smelled like cooked skin and fish. Still, curiosity got the better of her. She bent over the man and tapped him gentlt on the head. He didn't stir, but he was positively scorching. He had to get out of the water.  
  
She walked over to the other side and grabbed hold of his arm. No sooner had she tugged he let out a blood-curdling scream. Surprised, she let go of him and fell on her back, her dress flaying all around. The man's screams turned into nauseating gurgles and thick streams of river water came spewing out of his mouth.  
  
"Calm down!" Ora screamed, crawling over to aid him. She soothingly rubbed his head until his coughing fit was over, no matter how his hair smelled and felt like sludge against her fingers. After his breathing turned to normal, the man turned and looked at her. His eyes were bulging and wild, but had a very pretty shade of green.  
  
"O-oh...." he croaked out. "An angel.... Oh no, I'm dead!" He slumped back down to the ground and blacked out again, leaving Ora a little shocked and embarrassed.  
  
Cid finally returned with three of the stable boys, who gently picked the man up and carried him back to the house with Cid and Ora following. "Get those wet clothes off of him, bathe him and put him to bed." He ordered Ora's nurses as he fastened his cloak and put on his hat. "I'm going into town to find a surgeon." Cid mounted his horse and left.  
  
Ora watched from the other side of the room as the nurses peeled off the muddy clothes and prepared a basin with warm water. When they weren't looking, she managed to sneak a peak of the man's naked body.  
  
"Hmm, not bad," she thought. "Not bad at all...."  
  
* * * * *  
  
It was the middle of the night when the doctor finally emerged from the guest room, wiping his sweaty brow on a rag. "The boy is in pretty bad shape. High fever, possibly pneumonia, extremely malnourished, a couple of broken ribs, a nasty bump on the head, and I managed to dislodge this out of his shoulder blade." He showed Cid a small, black bullet in his palm. "Either someone was trying to kill him, or he has been a naughty boy."  
  
"Will he be alright?" Cid asked nervously.  
  
"Not likely, but there is a possibility. If he makes it through the night I wouldn't worry about it. But you know the routine, Senor Partida. Keep him warm, plenty of fluids, and lots of rest. Good night Señor. Señorita" One of the nurses escorted him to the stables.  
  
"I want to see him." Ora said, bolting for the door.  
  
Cid grabbed her arm. "Ora, have you no decency? The poor lad is ill and needs his rest."  
  
"Then I'll be quiet!" she huffed, freeing her arm. She slowly opened the door and tip toed over to the chair beside the bed. With all the mud and grime gone, he looked extremely handsome. His long, golden hair shimmered in the fireplace's glow that surrounded him and he had a cute, boyish face. "He's much better looking than Nemesio." she thought.  
  
"Ora, it's time to go to bed." Cid said from the doorway.  
  
"Oh. Uh.... I think that I'll stay here for the night. You know, make sure he's all right?"  
  
"But Ora, the nurses can do that."  
  
"Oh, I know.... But they've been helping him all night and I'm pretty sure that they're exhausted, so.... Can we, maybe.... Give them the night off?" She asked pleadingly.  
  
Cid rolled his eyes. "Oh, do whatever you want. Good night." He closed the door behind him, leaving Ora alone with the stranger. It wasn't long before she fell asleep.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Ora slowly came around to find the room bathed in sunlight. She looked over at the man, only to find that he was staring back, shivering. "Hey! You're alive!" she yelled, making the man wince and hold his bandaged head. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she whispered.  
  
"That's all right." he replied in a hoarse voice. His eyes suddenly bulged and the color drained from his face. "I-I need something to throw up in." he hiccupped.  
  
"Oh! Uh...." She spotted a wash bowl on the nightstand, grabbed it and held it under his chin. With a great heave a giant stream of murky water spilled out of his mouth. It made Ora sick to even listen. After spitting out the last of it, he fell back onto his pillow, exhausted.  
  
"Are you all right?" she said, taking a step back in fear that more was to come up.  
  
"No-o." he trembled. "I'm c-cold." He continued to shiver and his teeth chattered loudly.  
  
"I'll go get you some more blanket." she said softly. It wasn't long before Ora's nurses were piling more blankets on him and the fireplace was being tended to.  
  
"Thank you." he whispered as a nurse placed a wet rag on his forehead.  
  
"Would you like something to eat, Señor?" the nurse asked . "Some chicken broth? A glass of warm milk.?  
  
"Eat?" the man groaned, turning a violent shade of green. "I don't think I CAN!!!" he screamed the last part as he vomited on his pillow. Soon it was replaced with a clean one. "I'm sorry!" he sobbed. "I couldn't help it!"  
  
"Don't be sorry! You are very, very sick!" Ora said.  
  
"Are you my sister?" the man asked, tears flowing down his cheeks.  
  
Ora looked at him like he was a total idiot. "What? No! Why in the world would you think I'm your sister?"  
  
The man's eyes shifted nervously. "Um.... because...."  
  
"Because what?!" she snapped.  
  
"Because I don't know who I am!" she cried.  
  
Ora stared at him. "You don't know who you are?"  
  
"I was kind of hoping that you could tell me." he whimpered.  
  
Ora looked him sadly. "I'm sorry, no. I have no idea who you are."  
  
"But I do." said a cold, nasally voice. Ora turned towards the doorway, where her eyes met Nemesio Cruz, captain of the Spanish guards. "Your name is Miguel Cervantes, and I have a warrant for your arrest." 


	3. Chapter 3

Miguel stared back at the man. "Arrest?"  
  
"That's right." said Nemesio, unhooking a pair of shackles from his belt. "You are to come with me."  
  
"Nooo.." Miguel weakly sobbed, burying his head under the covers for protection. Ora glared at Nemesio. Couldn't he see that this man was ill?  
  
Nemesio's face violently turned a violent shade of purple. "Fool! Do not make me lose my temper!" He strode over to the bed and whipped the covers of Miguel, clad in only a pair of pants and sporting a huge, ugly black bruise along his ribcage. Grabbing him by the wrist, Nemesio hurled him to sitting position, making Miguel cry in pain. He forced one shackle closed onto Miguel's wrist and one on his own. "Now get up. Your little friends will be happy to see you. That is, if they haven't been hanged first."  
  
"Nemesio, you jackass, release that man at once!!!" a voice rang out. It was Ora, and she had seen enough.  
  
Nemesio's eyes turned to steel. "Don't be foolish, you silly girl! This man is a thief and will rob you blind as soon as your back is turned!"  
  
Ora snorted. "Yeah, can't even sit up on his own, but can rob a manor. Sure, and the Pope owns a tavern." Miguel managed to laugh weakly at this, but stopped when Nemesio's glare turned to him. "Could you please release him and follow me outside?"  
  
Nemesio raised his hand as if he was going to try and slap her, but instead smoothed his oily, black hair back. "Fine." He unshackled Miguel and pushed him roughly back down, making him scream again. "I'll be back." he growled, pointing a finger at him.  
  
Once they were outside the door, Ora began punching Nemesio in the chest. "You big bully! Have you lost your mind!" she screamed, punching at every word. Of course, Nemesio was wearing a breastplate, so it had positively no affect on him at all. In the end, Ora was the one who was in pain. "Can't you see that the man is wounded?"  
  
Nemesio smiled as if they were talking about the weather. "Of course I do. I saw one of my soldiers shoot him off the top of a waterfall four days ago. But that was after the little bastard punched me in the face." He pointed to his face angrily.  
  
Ora smiled. "Oh, I thought your nose looked more.... Bulbous.... than usual."  
  
Nemesio turned purple with rage again. "You are being stupid. He's just taking your foolish father's kindness for granted. As soon as he gets well, he'll strip you of everything you have. I know it, you know it and he knows it!"  
  
"Well, that's the thing, Nemesio," she said, still smiling. "He doesn't know it."  
  
"What are you talking about?!"  
  
"He's lost his memory. Doesn't know who he is, where he is, or where he's from."  
  
Nemesio's face twisted with anger and frustration. "He's lying to you! Don't you know that's what his type does?! They lie! I'll show you!" He pushed the door open again and stormed back into the room, where a nurse was tending Miguel. "You! Out!" he roared at her, causing her to cry out and flee from the room.  
  
"Listen Cervantes," Nemesio said, trying very hard to sound calm. "You are a thief. I know that, and she knows that. The question is: 'Do you know it?'"  
  
Miguel shook his head, scared out of his wits.  
  
"Fine." Nemesio said, looking as if he was about to explode. "I'm going to ask you a series of questions to see if you really don't remember anything. Understand?"  
  
"Uh.... Yes?"  
  
Nemesio paced back and forth as he spoke. "Question number one: What is your name?"  
  
"M-Miguel Cervantes?"  
  
"Aha!" Nemesio screamed, pointing accusingly at him. "I knew he was lying!"  
  
"You already told him what his name was, genius." Ora said, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.  
  
Nemesio blinked. "That was a practice question. Here's the real one. Question number one: Who are your partner's in crime?"  
  
Miguel stared back at him. "How many do I have?"  
  
"Two."  
  
"Okay, uh.... George and William?"  
  
"One is a woman."  
  
"Oh! Okay. George and Isabel?  
  
"No."  
  
"Peter and Mary Jane?"  
  
"No...."  
  
"Kenneth and Lindsay? Kevin and Rosie?"  
  
"NO!" Nemesio roared, running his fingers savagely through his hair, trying to tear it out.  
  
Ora felt that if she watched anymore of this that she would die laughing. "Nemesio, this is going nowhere. I think we should get the doctor and see what he thinks."  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Now Miguel, I want you to follow my finger." the doctor said. He waved his finger around Miguel's face, whose eyes where following. A few seconds later Miguel groaned and closed his eyes. "Okay, dizziness." the doctor said. "Well, he has many symptoms of head trauma. I don't see why he shouldn't have amnesia."  
  
"You see?" Ora said, elbowing Nemesio in the arm. "I told you he wasn't lying." Nemesio said nothing but kept a loathing eye on Miguel.  
  
"How long does amnesia last?" Cid asked.  
  
"Well, amnesia is very unpredictable." the doctor said. "It can last days, weeks, months, even years." Miguel whimpered when he heard this. "But it's very rare if it takes years." he added. "In the meantime, you need to get lots of rest and drink lots of fluids."  
  
The thought of eating something made Miguel heave a little. Of course there was nothing left inside of him so no one was worried.  
  
As soon as the doctor left, Nemesio walked up to Miguel. "These fools may think you don't remember anything, but I don't. If I see you step one foot outside this house, I will have you in jail and killed the next day."  
  
"You won't have to worry about that." Miguel sneered, which surprised him. Was he really that brave or that stupid?  
  
Nemesio gave one last glare and walked away. "We'll have that lunch some other time, Señor Partida." As soon as the door closed behind him, everyone let out a sigh of relief.  
  
"You know," Cid said. "His father was a good friend and a wonderful person.... It's a shame it didn't pass on to Nemesio." He chuckled to himself and bid the both of them goodnight.  
  
Ora smiled at Miguel, who smiled weakly back. "Well.... Goodnight."  
  
"Wait!" he cried out, and Ora stopped in her tracks. "You know, and I know, my name. What's yours?  
  
Ora smiled and blushed. "Um.... Ora. Stupid isn't it?"  
  
"No. It's beautiful. It suits you." Miguel said, gazing at her. "Ora.."  
  
Ora suddenly felt very uncomfortable about his presence. "Uh.... Goodnight, Señor Cervantes." she walked quickly out the door and closed it, leaving Miguel dumbfounded.  
  
"Idiot!" he said, slapping his bandaged head. "OW!!! God.... " 


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey! Guard!" Tulio whispered, clutching the bars of his cell. "Psst!"  
  
The guard snorted and awoke with a start, then glared at the raven- haired man. "What do you want now?"  
  
"I-I just wanted to know if you've heard anything about my friend." Tulio asked, his throat parched. He was very worried. What if something happened to Miguel?  
  
The guard gritted his teeth in annoyance. "How many times do I have to tell you? NO!!!" Then he smiled. "But I do have news about that slave girl you were with."  
  
Tulio squeezed his eyes tight, fighting the anger that boiled up inside him. "What?" he asked calmly.  
  
"She was bought by a guy who runs a pub in town. I'm sure he's having fun with her right now." he laughed wickedly.  
  
"NO!!!" Tulio screamed, kicking the bars hard. "OW!!!" He grabbed his throbbing foot, only to trip on the shackles that were attached to his ankles. The rest of the inmates laughed at him as he crumpled to the ground in agony. "I'm going to kill him!" Tulio yelled, tears of pain and sorrow filling his eyes. "Damn you Miguel! Where the hell are you?!"  
  
"I'll tell you where he is." A voice said. Tulio looked up to see a tall, some-what handsome man with greasy black hair and a tiny mustache in black and silver armor. It was Nemesio.  
  
"Captain!" the guard said, stumbling off of his stool and saluting the man. "What are you doing down here in the dungeons?"  
  
Nemesio smiled. "I just have a little news for Saldovar here." he said smugly, walking over the cell.  
  
Tulio crawled over to him and grasped the bars. "You know where Miguel is?" he asked hopefully. "Did you catch him? Is he all right?"  
  
"Yes, we caught him." Nemesio said, bending over to be face to face with Tulio. "In the river."  
  
"What do you mean?" Tulio asked, fearing the worst.  
  
"Your little friend is dead." he said, smiling. "We fished him out of the river just yesterday and buried him in a pit. It was rather nasty. But don't fret. Your execution is scheduled for next month so you'll be reunited in Hell. Horatio, follow me." Nemesio twirled on his heal with the other guard following and bolted the door behind them.  
  
"No....." Tulio slid down the bars, the tears now pouring down his cheeks. First his wife is taken, and then Miguel dies. Now he was going to die. "It's official." he groaned. "Life sucks."  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Shall I go tell the king that Cervantes is dead?" Horatio asked. "I think he will be very-"  
  
"Cervantes is not dead." Nemesio snarled.  
  
"W-what?" Horatio stammered. "But you said-"  
  
"I lied, genius!" Nemesio barked. "I saw the little bastard three days ago at Partida manor. He's in poor shape and has lost his memory. Besides, I have plans for him."  
  
"And what would that be, sir?" Horatio asked.  
  
Nemesio chuckled. He loved brown-nosers. "I just told Saldovar that Cervantes is dead, right? Wouldn't it be funny if he saw Cervantes, alive and well, in the crowd to watch his execution? Oh, I can only imagine the look on his face."  
  
Even though Horatio was a cruel man, he wasn't as cruel as Nemesio. In fact, he felt a little pity for Tulio. "Uh, yes, I suppose that would be funny. But after Saldovar is dead and Cervantes gets his memory back, what then?"  
  
"It's quite simple Horatio." he said placidly. "I'll kill him."  
  
* * * * *  
  
"My lord." One of the nurses walked into the dining room where Cid and Ora were finishing their breakfast. "Señor Cervantes is throwing a fit. He will not eat. In fact, he hasn't eaten anything sense he got here."  
  
Cid sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Poor boy. He probably took a turn for the worse. Oh well, I'll try and talk to him." He sat up from his beautiful hand carved chair and followed the nurse.  
  
Ora had not talked to or even seen Miguel since the night he said she was beautiful. She was both embarrassed and appalled. But, once again, she got curious and followed her father down the halls and into Miguel's bedroom. Miguel had the covers up to his eyes and was moaning. He had gotten worse.  
  
"Son? Why don't you have some soup? It's good for you." Cid dipped a spoon into the bowl and moved it towards Miguel's face.  
  
Miguel swatted it away and pulled the covers over his head. "No food...." he groaned. "Must sleep...."  
  
Cid sighed and crossed his arms. "Well if you won't let us heal you, then I guess I have no choice but to ask you to leave."  
  
Miguel pulled the blankets down, his face a mixture of anger and determination. "Fine! Thank you for your kindness, Señor Partida. I will be on my way." Slowly he pulled himself to a sitting position, grunting in pain. Then he swung his legs off the bed and stood up even slower. But before he took one step, he fell onto his hands and knees, screaming in pain.  
  
"Oh my!" one nurse said, walking over to aid him.  
  
"NO!!!" Miguel yelled, waving his arm to stop her. "I can crawl! Good bye!" He crawled along the floor and towards the door, his face twisted in pain. But he stopped at the doorway, for something was blocking his path. He looked up and saw Ora, giggling behind her hand. "What's so funny?" he growled.  
  
Ora stopped laughing and put on a straight face. "I admire your determination, Señor Cervantes. It's a quality one does not find in a man these days. But-" she started to giggle again. "I think it's hilarious to see a grown man crawling on the ground in a serious manner."  
  
Not only was Ora laughing, but all of the nurses and Cid were laughing too. Miguel turned deep red and scowled. Then he smiled. "Well... I think it's hilarious that a woman tries to act like she matters in the world."  
  
Ora stopped laughing and flushed pink. "Why you.... Stupid peasant!" She kicked him in the shoulder and he crumpled to the ground, gasping in pain. "I matter ten times more than you ever will!"  
  
The nurses rushed over and picked Miguel up by the arms and dragged him back over to the bed. Ora marched over to the bed, picked the spoon up off the floor, grabbed the bowl of soup, and shoved it in Miguel's face. "Eat!"  
  
"I don't want to eat!" Miguel screamed. And, without any warning, Ora stuck out her finger and pushed it into Miguel bandaged ribs. "AAAAAH!!!! You crazy bitch!!!"  
  
"Eat up, or I'll do it again." She said in a singsong voice, waving her finger playfully in front of Miguel's eyes.  
  
"You wouldn't dare." Miguel growled. But she did. "AAAH!!!"  
  
"Eat!"  
  
"No!"  
  
Poke.  
  
"Eat!"  
  
"No!"  
  
Poke.  
  
"Eat!"  
  
"No!"  
  
Poke.  
  
"I can do this all night you know. It doesn't hurt me and it's very amusing. But I have to think of my father and the fact that he's spending good money and good time on a crook like you. So, unless you want to rot in a jail cell, eat or I'll shove this spoon down your throat!!!"  
  
Miguel glared at her as if she was a demon. But he grabbed the spoon and the bowl out of her hands and said, through gritted teeth, "Get-out-of- my-sight."  
  
Ora stood up, smoothed out her dress and walked out of the room, her father following. Before the door closed she saw Miguel spooning the soup into his mouth and giving her a piercing look.  
  
"Um.... W-well done daughter." said Cid, both impressed and a little afraid.  
  
Ora smiled and raised her chin high. "Father, in times like these you have to force people to do what's good for them. Even if it means being a crazy bitch." 


	5. Chapter 5

It was two days later when Nemesio came over to have the lunch with the Partida's as planned. He tried his best to be courteous and polite around them, seeing as how ruthless he was from his last visit, to win Ora's affections.  
  
Did he love her though? Of course not. In his eyes she was smart- mouthed, spoiled little strumpet. But she was beautiful and rich, and that was all Nemesio cared about. And her old fool of a father would have to die sooner or later. So in the end he'd have his trophy wife, a huge manor, plantations, his own powerful job as Captain, and he would be in control of all of Cid Partida's ships. Oh, life would be sweet.  
  
But one thing was standing in his way. Cervantes. She seemed to have a soft spot for the bastard and that was a problem. But, as always, Nemesio had a plan.  
  
"Ora, would you care to accompany me in the hall?" he asked, his oily voice trying to sound sweet and noble.  
  
Ora cringed at the request. In truth she would rather have the slab of lamb she was picking at nailed to the side of her head. But, damn her etiquette, she stood. "Of course."  
  
Once they were there, he asked, "I was wondering if you have reached a decision over my marriage proposal?"  
  
Ora's brow furrowed and she faced away from him. "Well, I don't know Nemesio. I've seen the way you treat sick people. Who knows how you'll treat a wife?"  
  
"You listen to me!" Nemesio screamed, raising his hand high. Ora turned around and smirked. Damn her! Nemesio lowered his hand and inhaled deeply. "Look, I know I have a horrible temper, but I am willing to change for you. You must believe me, Ora. You are the reason that I am. We were meant to be together. Just give it a chance. Please?" He made his cold gray eyes turn shiny with tears. He was really good at that.  
  
But Ora knew that Nemesio was lying to her. Still, since he said he was willing to do anything to win her affections, she might as well have a little fun with it. "I don't know.... What could you possibly do for me?"  
  
"I have just the idea. Cervantes! When he gets better, I'll show him around the town and see what it's like to live the good life like we do." Nemesio smiled. This was too easy!  
  
"What about Miguel's friends?"  
  
Nemesio's smiled faded and was replaced with a scowl. "As soon as I released them, they decided to leave the country. No matter what I told them about Cervantes, they refused to go see him.... I, uh, wouldn't mention that to him in the first place. You can't get well with bad news you know."  
  
For that moment Ora let her guard down. She actually believed Nemesio. It seemed pretty logical. Thieves were no good liars and not very decent. "Okay, I won't tell him. But you better keep to your word, Nemesio."  
  
"Oh, I will, my dear. I will. Tell your father that lunch was fabulous for me. Good day." Nemesio walked out the door, smiling smugly. "Gotcha...."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Truth be told, Ora didn't care what Nemesio did to Miguel at the moment. They had not talked since that fatal day and were still as angry as ever. Ora decided to read her book and then take her afternoon nap, but on the way to her room was Miguel's, and his door was open. She tried to pass by unnoticed, but something inside caught her eye. Miguel was propped up on the pillows and reading Utopia. HER BOOK!  
  
"How dare you steal my book?" she snapped.  
  
Miguel looked up, startled. His expression changed from shock to annoyance. "I was bored so one of your nurses gave me this to read. Is that okay with you, milady?"  
  
"Okay?" Ora snorted, crossing her arms. "I'm surprised a simple thief like you can even read."  
  
Miguel slammed the book by his side, his face turning a light pink. "Well, I'm surprised a spoiled little girl like you can read to. I thought your nurses, your father, or your boyfriend Captain Gargoyle read to you."  
  
Ora used all of her strength to prevent from strangling him. "Look compadre! I don't know who you think you are-"  
  
"Really? Well that makes two of us!"  
  
"Give me my book back!"  
  
"NO!"  
  
Ora lunged for the book, but Miguel swiped it before she even touched it. Ora grabbed the book but Miguel kept a strong grip on it. (Which was impressive for someone who was sick) Suddenly, the book fumbled between their fingers and went flying through the air. They both watched as it sailed across the room.... And into the blazing fireplace.  
  
"No!!!!" Ora screamed, clasping her hands to her mouth and weeping. "No.... What have you done?"  
  
"What are you crying for?" Miguel sneered. "Your dear old daddy can go buy you another one."  
  
"You don't understand!" Ora sobbed. "That book was special."  
  
"Oh really? And how?"  
  
Ora sniffled. "My mother gave it to me right before she died."  
  
What happened next was both shocking and puzzling. Miguel flung the covers off of him and leaped out of bed, screaming in pain as he fell to his knees. He quickly crawled over to the fireplace and, hard to believe, grabbed the fiery book by flinging it to the ground. He then proceeded in beating it continuously until all the flames where gone. Panting, he picked up the book, crawled over to Ora, and handed it to her.  
  
"The cover's a little charred," he wheezed, "but the pages are pretty much intact." As Ora took the book, he collapsed in a dead faint.  
  
Ora could not believe what just happened. How could someone be so rude to her and then do something so outrageous and kind a second later. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a gasp. A nurse was standing in the doorway.  
  
"Oh my lord! What on Earth are you two doing?"  
  
"Uh.... Reading?" Ora said, smiling and holding up the book. 


	6. Chapter 6

"Well, I hope you're happy Ora." Cid snapped, pacing in front of his daughter who was sitting in a chair and scowling. "Thanks to your selfishness, our guest has succeeded in burning his hands and breaking two of his good ribs... What do you have to say about that?"  
  
"He shouldn't have had my book. It's mine." Ora mumbled.  
  
"Oh God Ora! I did not raise you for all of your twenty-seven years to be a miserable shrew that can't share a simple book! It's no wonder you're not married yet. I know girls your age who are grandmothers, you know!..... Now look, if you have any heart, you will pay your respects to Senior Cervantes and apologize for your actions, before he ends up six feet under because the way he blinks annoys you!" Cid turned his heal and stormed out of the room, snapping at his servants to get out of his way or they would be fired.  
  
Ora sighed. 'That stupid man is driving me insane!' she thought. True, she was concerned that Miguel hurt himself again, and guilty that she was to blame, but mostly she was mad and curious. Why did he risk himself just to save her book when it was clear that he despised her? There was only one way to find out.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Ora peeked shyly around the door into Miguel's room, trying not to make a sound. Miguel was staring out of the window, his hands wrapped in clean white linen and a sporting a miserable face. There were dark rings under his eyes and he was still as pale as a ghost, probably because he was still sick. Still, Ora thought, the man was a looker. His golden hair flashed in the sunlight and she could still make out the bright green orbs from a distance. It reminded her of that first night when she watched sleep, how innocent he looked, before she learned that he was a miserable chauvinistic pig.  
  
Ora cleared her throat quietly, gaining Miguel's attention. Miguel's brows furrowed and his mouth scowled. "What?" he snapped.  
  
Ora slowly walked into the room, trying to avoid Miguel's harsh eyes. "I-uh- I just wanted to see how you were."  
  
Miguel looked at her with disgust, and then put on the most fake happy face he could manage and held up his bandaged hands. "Peachy keen! And how are you? Are you enjoying your book, or would you like it well done?" The last bit had a sharp sting in them and Miguel went back to being mad.  
  
Ora inhaled sharply with anger, but brushed it aside and pulled her charred book out of her pocket. "Look... I realize what I did was wrong and... here." She flopped it onto the bed and waited for the usual 'thank you' that went with it. It did not come.  
  
Miguel's mouth dropped, absolutely appalled. "OH, FOR GOD'S SAKE, WOULD YOU MAKE UP YOUR MIND!?!?!?! 'Give me my book back, you stupid thief!' 'Oh, I don't want it anymore, here you go!' Well that's just great, but I don't think it'll put the SKIN BACK ON MY HANDS!!!!"  
  
That did it. "How dare you! I come here and apologize and you, of all people, have the nerve to insult me!  
  
"Apologize?!" Miguel laughed. "You didn't apologize. You said 'Here.' That doesn't really qualify as an apology."  
  
"Oh, you are so stupid!" Ora screamed.  
  
"No, you're stupid!" Miguel screamed back.  
  
"Thief!"  
  
"Brat!"  
  
"Peasant!"  
  
"Daddy's girl!"  
  
"Woman!"  
  
"WOMAN?!?!?!" Miguel roared. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN WOMAN!?!?!?!"  
  
"That's right, you are a woman! All you do is sit there all day whining about your head, or your ribs, or your stomach. You call yourself a man? Ha! You can't even stand on your own feet for more than two seconds! So that's why you are a WEAK-PITIFUL-WOMAN-BABY!" Ora smiled at herself, amused at how she must have struck a nerve because Miguel was panting hard with rage and his face was turning beet color.  
  
"I...am...going....to.... KILL YOU!!!!!!" Miguel flipped the covers off of his body and leapt out of bed. He knew immediately that that was a mistake, because the world violently tilted to one side and his stomach seemed to climb up into his throat. But the look of fear and surprise on Ora's face made him smile, and he slowly started to walk forward. 'Oh God, this isn't worth it.' he thought as he started to see at least three of everything. He sank to his knees and let out a painful groan as his disgusting lunch of broth and medicine surged up his throat and scalded his throat.  
  
"Oh, dammit!" Ora groaned and walked other to Miguel, hoisted him up to his feet, practically carried him back to his bed, and flung him not so gently onto it. "I told you you couldn't do it. But nooOOOooo, you had to get all butch for me with your death threats and all." She waited a few moments for the expected sharp comeback, but it didn't come. Miguel just curled up into a ball and started shaking. "Miguel?... Miguel, what's wrong?"  
  
Miguel shook a little harder and started to let out little sobbing gasps. "O-o-o-ow.... Why-did-you-have-to-throw-meee-hee-he-heeee?......" He clutched his sore ribs and rocked back and forth in agony, sobbing out loud now.  
  
Ora looked to the heavens. "Ah Christ. Miguel! Mi-MIGUEL! I'M SORRY! I AM SORRY! I didn't mean to hurt you!"  
  
Miguel looked over his shoulder. "A-are you sorry for calling me a woman?" he cried.  
  
"Uh... sure. Yes. I'm sorry."  
  
"And a p-peasant? And a thief? And a crook? A-and a baby? And a-"  
  
Ora rubbed her temples. "YES, YES!! FINE!!! ALL RIGHT!!! I'm sorry for calling you names! Now, are you sorry for being mean to me too?"  
  
"Uh-huh." Miguel whimpered, but still continued to rock in a fetal position. "I'm still in pain though. You f-flung me too hard." He flinched suddenly when he felt soft hands rubbing his shoulders gently, but he soon relaxed and stopped crying, hearing Ora hum for him. It was very nice and pretty, and the fingers massaging his back felt sooooooo good. He slowly let his body fall loose and tilted his head back, moaning in pleasure and letting a smile, his first real smile since he could remember (literally), spread across his face. "Oh.... yeeeeah....." He gasped when the hands started to rub his neck, and he felt like he had just melted into a puddle. "Mmmmmmmm......"  
  
"Feel better?" Ora asked, a smile in her voice. ".....Miguel?"  
  
"Huh?" Miguel asked, turning over with his eyes glazed and a drunken smile on his face.  
  
"I'll take that as a yes." Ora said. "Now, as I was going to say before... Thank you for saving my book. That was very kind of you."  
  
"Oh." Miguel said, sobering up. "You're *ahem!* you're welcome." He pushed himself up into a sitting position with his hands, which was a mistake as he quickly put the pressure off of them and breathed in sharply through clenched teeth. "Damn."  
  
Ora bit her lip guiltily, remembering why he burnt his hands. "By the way.... Why did you do that anyway? I thought you hated me."  
  
"I-uh.... I don't really want to say. I----O-o-o-o-o-o-o-oh......" He was cut off when Ora started to massage his neck again. "Geez, you're stubborn. Well, if you rrrreally must know.... I felt sorry for you-Oh, that's good!" Ora went lower and started rubbing the small of his back and he arched to get more of that feeling.  
  
"Why did you feel sorry for me?" she asked. 'Hmm, this massaging stuff works pretty good.' she thought. 'Maybe I should use it more often.'  
  
"Be-because- Uh!!!" His eyes rolled back into his head as she slid across his love handles. "Because I think it's sad you lost your mother, and I kind of effected me in a way."  
  
"Oh. Do you think that, maybe, you lost a mother too?"  
  
"P-p-p-p-possibly."  
  
'Okay, that's enough Ora'. Ora stopped rubbing and had to stifle a giggle when Miguel nearly screamed in protest. "Uh, heh heh, I should stop."  
  
"Noooo!!" Miguel whined.  
  
"Miguel," she said, cupping his cheek, which he leaned into with eyes closed. "You are a very sweet man. Thank you." Then she lightly kissed him on the lips. For a man who had just thrown up, he tasted surprisingly sweet. "You should get some rest. Goodnight senior."  
  
Miguel watched her as she walked out of the room, and for the first time he realized how beautiful she truly was. Her eyes were a deep chocolate brown and her hair was a lovely golden color, much like his except darker. She was small, but surprisingly strong since she nearly carried him back to bed, and very, veeeeeeery good with her hands.  
  
Miguel sighed with a smile on his face. "She's nice..... Hey, Senorita?"  
  
Ora walked back into the room. "Yes."  
  
"Uh.. There's still vomit on the floor."  
  
Ora giggled. "Oh. Well, I'll just get someone to clean it up. And Miguel?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Call me Ora."  
  
Miguel smiled. "Okay.. Ora." 


End file.
